Of Roses and Wine Cellars
by Astariel
Summary: Matthias and Cornflower struggle to find "alone-time"..


This is a nasty little number I made in math class. (I'll never look at rational numbers the same way again) Please read and review, thanks. DISCLAIMER: like duh, I didn't make any of these characters, and I am by no means dissing the great works of Brian Jacques, he's great.  
  
In a dusty corner of Ambrose Spikes wine cellar, the two mice could be found passionatly lip-locked. (Well as passionatly lip-locked as two mice with three inch long teeth could be.) It was time, they had decided, for some fun.  
  
Between saving the abbey and decimating every foe single-handedly, their need to relax was more pressing than ever. Matthias needed rest, and Cornflower, well Cornflower was just plain tired of being the token self- righteous virgin. After enduring an embarassing community feast in the honor of an active future sex life, they didn't favour the idea of shedding their innocence in a bedroom. So, well, the cellar was original wasn't it?  
  
"Well m'lad," Basil Stag Hare had said to Matthias, "who'd expect a bally romp in that there wine cellar? And besides that, you've got all the blinkin' booze in the abbey to load 'er with! You'd be suprised how far a lass with bally a good drink will go!"  
  
The last line had convinced Matthias. So off he went to relate his little plan to Cornflower. Of course, he omitted the part about getting her intoxicated for an extra mile--but it would do. "Cornflower, my dear, I propose a secret meet at midnight--in the wine cellar. I'll bring the Champagne." And the Cordial, and the Ale, and the Rum, and the Vodka, he thought.  
  
"Oh, Matthias! You romantic charmer," she had giggled, "I shall most certainly be there! 8 'o clock shall we say?"  
  
So the alotted time had come, and there they were; jawing it for all it was worth. Their tongues rolled about each others mouths until they were nigh on numb.  
  
It's time, thought Matthias. He urged her finish yet another beaker of wine, before continuing.  
  
Cornflower belched most unladylike. "I don't think I shall drink anymore dear, I'm postitivly dizzy."  
  
The mouse made his move. He took her gently and caressed her soft pink hands. She looked into his eyes lovingly, and they drew near for another kiss, softly at first, and then ravenously in their desire for each other. Matthias pressed Cornflower to the soft straw floor and set to work. Deftly, he loosed her apron strings. Cornflower was trembling, but did not stop him. Instead she fumbled with the buttons of his jerkin, undid them and slid the light tunic from his shoulders.  
  
By now, Matthias had her tiny, furry chest bare in the dim light of the cellar. He drew his breath sharply in anticipation, as he proceeded to remove her dress from her waist. Slowly, down he pulled the soft material, revealing Cornflower in all her natural charm--vulnerable, awaiting before him.  
  
The young mouse, blushing in her bareness, drew his face down to rest on her lips. The two engaged in their last kiss beofre the lantern died-- leaving the two lovers to locomote by touch. Cornflower grew rigid as her husbands kisses travelled southward to stall at her stomach. She gasped, but volentarily widened the passage for the entrance of her love.  
  
Matthias was breathing heavily, inches away from fullfilling his virile destination. In the darkness, he paused, allowing himself to be swallowed in feeling, before he would, with a single thrust, decimate their innocence. Cornflower, who had always been good at sensing his feelings, whispered her consent, "it's alright Matthias, I want this." So then, slowly at first, the young mouse pushed her virginity into the past. In rythmic sequence, the couple moved, basking in the sensuality and pure high of the moment. Cornflower rolled her love over, and took dominance. Matthias's eyes widened at her unexpected skill. Soon the two were embroiled in ceaseless moans and cries of pleasure.  
  
Their voices grew so loud, many of the abbey-dwellers mistook them for prowlers. The young dibbuns shivered in their blankets, whimpering in fright over the ghostly sounds that disturbed their slumber. Abbot Alf, Ambrose, Jess Squirrell and the ghost of Friar Hugo (weilding a frying pan) burst through the cellar door to find the young couple in the climax of sexual bliss.  
  
"Oh my!" gasped the abbot, and crossed himself twice over, "I'm dreadfully sorry!"  
  
Basil chose that moment to pop in, "get out you bally desperate virgins!" he ushered the flushed intruders out of the cellar. Then the hare gave a quick wink to Matthias, "that's the way, chap! Give it to her! Nice and hard, forget all that slow romantic bosh, I'd say--"  
  
"--BASIL!" shouted Matthias, "PLEASE!"  
  
"Alright, Alright then! I'm off! Happy thrustings!" said the hare and whisked out.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Cornflower,"  
  
"Oh, forget it--where were we again?"  
  
"Hmm, right about....here!" Matthias exsentiated the last word with an agressive thrust.  
  
"WhOOOooA!" shouted Cornflower, "we should do this more often!"  
  
"How about tomorrow?"  
  
"Great. But bring a lock for that door--and a mattress."  
  
"Done," said Matthias, and pushed again.  
  
Alrighttt, that's it, please review! 


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